


Like My Mother Before Me

by spun_foonerisms



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, F/F, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 04:07:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13426467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spun_foonerisms/pseuds/spun_foonerisms
Summary: Rose is lonely and drunk out of her mind.This is a sadder style than I usually go for & it's only one chapter for now, but I'm considering expanding it into a slow burn RoseKan fic if y'all want more. Because there's not enough non-fetish f/f on here. Let me know <3





	1. A Time

Rose’s eyes skim the rim of the glass once more. There is not much left to drink and she knows she’s not sober enough to make more. The phrase “Like my mother before me,” spins through her head, and she makes a note to write this down for later tragic poetry. The note is washed down with the next swig of moonshine. A speck of a girl on a speck of a rock in a speck of space in a diseased universe. Diseased diseased diseased. Speck. She is lying on the floor, she realizes. She realizes this because Karkat has kicked her. He is yelling something about how reckless she is, or whatever. He’s obviously right and even more obviously an ignoramus, only a fool keeps arguing a fight they’ve won. She feels the press of her body into mattress, of blanket over her skin. Then nothing.

Then everything. She has probably been asleep, but in space one has no way of telling. She hears with deafening clarity every cursed pebble that jitters on this stupid flying asteroid. She can feel her skull closing in on her brain. She can feel each pump of her pointless heart. She can feel the dead skin of her cracked lips. There is a note, a sandwich, and a glass of water next to her bed. So she has been asleep. The note is the only thing she can deal with right now. It reads:

“I Hope You Slept Well.”

Kanaya has learned so well from Rose’s tutelage that she has pinpointed the very breed of irony her mother once employed. “Like my mother before me,” rises to the surface of her thoughts. She lets out a ragged laugh. How funny that she is a god unable to play with her own fate. How funny that the gods that made her world are now serving her hangover sandwiches.

\---

It is some time later. Rose has read through part of one of Karkat’s absurd novels, as much as she can bear sober. Which is not much, really. Though this tapestry of quadrants seems hilariously similar to the muddled quagmire that her life has been. Black and red and changing. Stupid. She turns her attention back to the book for a valiant minute more before she stops lying to herself.

\---

Dave has taken to guarding the alchemizer. He keeps hiding her punch cards as though they don’t both know she is a Seer.

“Hey.”

Rose does not dignify this with a response. His red stare does not move.

“Glad to see you up and about. ‘Kat was worried, you know.”

She knows.

“You look like a fuckin vampire. All bloodshot and bloodthirsty. I mean, vampire is a good look for you usually but you’ve morphed (animorphed, you could say) out of Anne Rice territory into some sorta fucked up bitchy Dracula. You and Kanaya match.”

No, they don’t.


	2. A Prayer

Like my mother before me  
Am I besot  
By reek of breath and  
Death of thought

Like my mother before me  
Do I betray   
Verisimilitude  
In light of day

Space between  
And work unwrought   
Like my mother before me  
Am I besot


End file.
